


The Less Things Change

by Brigantine



Category: due South
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-06
Updated: 2011-10-06
Packaged: 2017-10-24 09:09:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/261588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brigantine/pseuds/Brigantine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ray has been described as a force of nature.  Add a distracted Scottish witch to that, and what do you get?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Less Things Change

**Author's Note:**

> For the Fairy Tales challenge. I ended up writing three snippets, and they kind of make a story? \o?

Ray lashed out, lightning bright. A long, onyx claw hooked through the layers of Fraser's flannel shirt and his henley beneath it, the hard, cold curve skating over the skin of Fraser's chest, and raising goose-bumps as Ray jerked Fraser forward.

"Fraser," Ray rumbled angrily, steam curling upward from the sides of his jaws, "Explanation! Now!"

Fraser resisted the urge to run curious fingers over the gleaming silver scales of Ray's new face; narrow, angular, and the size of a horse's head. "I believe it was the gingerbread, Ray."

Ray snarled, revealing twin sets of sharp, ivory-white teeth, his upper and lower canines the length of Fraser's little fingers. His long neck arched forward gracefully, and he breathed incense-scented steam into Fraser's face. "Magic fucking _gingerbread?_ "

Fraser stared thoughtlessly, caught up in the deep, sapphire blue of Ray's eyes.

 _"Fraser!"_ Ray shook him awake, ripping both shirts.

Fraser blinked. "Ah. Yes. Well. Apparently Madame MacGillicutty's effort to drug the two of us long enough to allow her to escape after we'd uncovered her illegal fire-newt smuggling operation had certain unforeseen… Whatever she put into the gingerbread affected you significantly differently than it affected me." He scrubbed at one eyebrow, and mourned his torn clothing. "Obviously."

Fraser winced as Ray's wings thrashed upward, knocking assorted crockery from upper shelves into a shattered mess on Madame MacGillicutty's linoleum floor. "You find her, Fraser! You find her, you arrest her witchy Scottish ass, and you get her to change me back!" Ray's lips pulled back from his fangs as he rumbled fiercely, "Or else I will have to _hunt_ her down myself, and things will get very fucking _messy!_ "

Fraser quickly reconsidered his intended comment that, all things considered, Ray's current form suited him quite handsomely. Perhaps for another day, then. "Understood, Ray."

_Snippet 2:_

Ray stepped forward into the light, the 3 a.m. shadows of the empty airplane hangar sliding away from his silver scales like dark water from armor. His wings shivered, scattering shards of reflected lamplight into the darkness behind him.

Madame MacGillicutty backpedaled into Fraser. "Crivens!"

Diefenbaker snorted, sounding far more amused, Fraser thought, than the situation warranted.

Ray's long jaws snapped shut within a handspan of Madame's nose. "Change me back!"

She gaped, "You think _I_ did this to you?"

"The spell in your gingerbread," Fraser reminded sternly. A wisp of curly red hair escaped Madame's purple scrunchie, and Fraser fidgeted, trying not to reach for the comb in his coat pocket.

Madame squeaked, "It was merely a wee sleeping spell!"

Ray backed off, steaming ominously. "Do we look asleep to you? Fraser's been wired like a bug on a bender for three days!" His ears, strutted and webbed like tiny versions of his wings, flickered agitatedly. "And I am hungry," he growled pointedly, " _all_ the goddamn time."

"He's become exceptionally carnivorous," Fraser complained. "It's a very expensive habit."

Diefenbaker whined at Ray adoringly.

"I may have rushed the workings just a bit," Madame admitted defensively, "but I was in rather a hurry, if you'll recall."

"Fire newts - fire _salamanders,_ are not illegal in the state of Illinois," Fraser began irritatedly, "why would you even go to the trouble of _smuggling_ \--"

"That is beside the point, Fraser!" Ray's claws dug impatient furrows into the concrete. "What _went wrong?_ "

"I suppose it's possible," Madame told Ray thoughtfully, "that somewhere, away back in your family history, _someone_ wasn't precisely... human."

Ray stared at Fraser, his jewel blue eyes wide. "Well fuck," he said.

Diefenbaker barked smugly.

Fraser huffed at him, "Oh, you did _not_ suspect it all along!"

_Snippet 3:_

Ray touched down a half-mile southwest of the abandoned hangar. Diefenbaker yipped happily beside him as he furled his wings and loped toward Fraser, waiting in the overgrown field.

"Oh hell yeah," Ray crowed triumphantly. " _Hell_ yeah!"

Fraser grinned at him. "I'd ask how it felt, but the evidence speaks for itself."

Ray pranced circles around Fraser while they walked back toward their camp site, his scales glittering brightly beneath a three-quarter moon.

"I'm hungry," Ray said. "You want me to catch us something?"

Fraser tugged thoughtfully at one ear. "Ah, not to doubt your ability Ray, but you do remember what happened last time?"

Ray snorted a short burst of steam into the cool air. "Bunny fur stuck between my teeth. Gross."

Diefenbaker whuffled inquiringly.

"Yes," Fraser assured him, "I brought the pizza you asked for; extra sausage, no onions."

Fraser yawned enormously. He had spent the past seven days in a hyperactive state, while deflecting persistent questions from Inspector Thatcher and Lieutenant Welsh. Now, suddenly, he felt weary to his very bones.

"Hey Fraser?"

"Yes, Ray? Oh..."

Ray stood naked and shivering in the September night, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. The moon behind him highlighted his unruly hair, and washed over the pale skin of his shoulders.

"I guess I landed just in time, huh?" After a week spent the size of a Clydesdale and clad in silver armor, Ray's naturally slender frame seemed small, and terribly fragile.

Fraser offered Ray his coat as Diefenbaker sniffed at Ray's bare knees.

"Madame MacGillicutty was correct, then," Fraser deduced. "The unexpected effects of her spell were merely temporary."

"Gonna miss the wings," Ray grumbled, "but I'd still like to kick her in the head."

Fraser fell into step beside him, yawning agreeably, "Oh, well yes. Absolutely."

 

\--#--

**Author's Note:**

> Spuffyduds suggested that this might be fun as a recurring complication for Ray. I must say the idea holds a certain interest.


End file.
